Salty cold air. Standing on the deck of the Igros Impaler, I stare out
into the ocean, and breathe in the salty cold air. The waters of the north
are much more different than the humid sloshy waters of Limberry. The
water here seems to serve only one major function, to house vessels and
produce large impractical fish, so different than the tuna housing waters
of the east. The water produces different foods as well, as I have yet to
see one rice field on the northern coast of Ivalice.
Funny that I'm going on about nothing, and trying my best to not think about the real reason I'm heading to Igros. After being in the dark for so long about who my father's murderer was, I've finally found a lead. No more aimless questions and searches, my life finally has direction, for the first time in years. Rumor has it that there is a seer in Garland Magic City who is capable of reading images and talking to the souls of departed ones. All you need is an item of value from the deceased, and you can once again meet with lost ones. I finally have a lead.
Holding up my father's Heaven's Cloud, my heart is filled with anticipation.
Anticipation, is that the best I can do? When is the last time I've been happy? Heck even content. Soon, maybe. Once I've finally get my revenge. Only then can I be content, only when my father's killer's head lies at my feet. Huh..is there really any purpose to life? Or is it all just duty?
Staring out into the dark night, I gaze at the glistening reflections of the moon and stars; and my mind begins to wander, wander to another night when the sky was littered with stars, and the moon was full.
"Where are we going daddy?"
"Sensei son, call me sensei when we're training."
"Sorry, where are we going sensei?"
"To the lake Jaynus. I'm going to tell you about the essence and spirit of the samurai heart."
The moon cascades an immense round eye on the surface of the lake near our farm. Ripples slowly disfiguring its image, the eye of the moon stares back at a boy in his early preteens. Sitting crossed legged in front of my imposing father, I meditate on the lesson my father is teaching, even though he's yet to say a word. Eyes closed and mind blank, I hear my father speak at last.
"Are you ready to accept the lesson? Are your mind and spirit empty, ready to be filled with the drink of wisdom?"
"Yes sensei. I am focused."
"Very well, let us begin."
Coming to a stand, my father unsheathes his katana, and lays it flat on the moist grass.
"The soul of a samurai lies in his blade Jaynus, and in becoming one with your blade, a samurai's true power is released. A samurai must be of complete focus and peace, in order to truly become one with his soul. A samurai must feel the essence of life inside him, must feel the essence of peace within him; only then will he be able to call upon his soul, the soul of his blade. You must reach tranquility in order to achieve our true power, do you understand?"
"Yes sensei."
"Then show me."
Opening my eyes with a slight startle, I can see that my father is solemn. His face is blank, emotionless. He is neither supportive nor unhelpful; he is merely an observer, a teacher. Till this point my training had simply been techniques and forms, I had never tried to release the essence of a blade before. I knew of the power. I had even seen it a few times when my father was helping to heal our animals, but I'd never considered trying it.
"Jaynus, focus!"
Slamming back into reality, I began to concentrate. I began to try and feel my essence, to feel my life force, and try and manifest it into my father's sword. I failed. Over and over again I failed. I couldn't see or feel anything. There was simply a blade lying in the grass, not a soul waiting to be unleashed. For hours I sat in concentration and effort, my father remaining silent and observant, occasionally reminding me to focus and concentrate. But I could not do it; I could not make it work.
For three months we went out to the lake at night. My physical training came to a complete stop, my father would not continue till I reached this milestone. He wouldn't discourage me, but he wouldn't offer any advice or aid. This was my test, my test alone. And I knew it.
Finally one night something was different. Instead of only his Heaven's Cloud, he brought along an item wrapped in cloth. During our meditation it lay by his side, motionless, an enigma of gray cloth.
I couldn't meditate, I kept staring at it, wondering what it was. Finally when it came down to trying to release the spirit of the Heaven's Cloud, my nerves were shattered.
For the first two hours, I failed to release the sword. I failed and degraded further and further, losing any ground and insight I may have gained during the three months of practice. I could see that my father was getting upset. "Jaynus, you must focus. What's the matter with you? You're doing poorly."
"Sensei, I can't do it. I can't concentrate."
"Is it because of this?"
Bringing the wrapped item to my face, I could only nod in agreement.
"Because of this. Jaynus, do you no what this is?"
"No sensei."
"It is your mother's. It is her Kodachi."
Opening the wrapping around the knife, I could see the small elegant knife. Longer than I regular knife, the Kodachi was more a short sword than anything, and it was beautiful.
"If this is more important to you than your training, so be it. Bringing the kodachi up over his head, my father swiftly brought it down, into his gut."
"Father!"
Trying to scramble to my feet, my father's voice bellows, "Sensei! I am your sensei. Now sit down! If you want to aid me, then you better call upon the blade's soul. Release her crimson tears Jaynus, or this farm will be yours."
Shocked and frightened, I shook into a cross-legged stance, and I tried to regain my composure. Watching my father sway from the loss of blood, I tried my best. I tried with all my might, focusing, concentrating, pleading with the blade to help me, but I couldn't do it. I failed, and my father crumpled to the ground, the loss of blood taking away his consciousness. With overwhelming shame and grief, I began to cry, letting everything go. I let go of all my thoughts and feelings, I simply cried uncontrollably, and the blade joined me.
I slowly rising black mist began to emit itself from the blade, forming a cloud of black and gray three feet off the ground. Tiny drops of crimson begin to dance down in a slow rhythmic pattern, eventually growing in strength to a rainfall of blood colored tears. Immediately I felt my energy and stamina return, and my father's wound seemed to close, the color on his face returning. It rained for a minute or so, before the mist just disappeared, any a teenage boy was left sitting beside his peacefully resting father.
I learned to summon the spirit of a blade that night, but it was not enough to save my father a second time.
DING! DING!
Looking behind me, I can see the night shift sentry ring the final bell of the night. The patrons are now to head into the cabin for the night. Turning from the bow of the ship, I head down the stairs towards my cot, and prepare myself for the morning. Because when I awake again, I'll be in Igros.
Funny that I'm going on about nothing, and trying my best to not think about the real reason I'm heading to Igros. After being in the dark for so long about who my father's murderer was, I've finally found a lead. No more aimless questions and searches, my life finally has direction, for the first time in years. Rumor has it that there is a seer in Garland Magic City who is capable of reading images and talking to the souls of departed ones. All you need is an item of value from the deceased, and you can once again meet with lost ones. I finally have a lead.
Holding up my father's Heaven's Cloud, my heart is filled with anticipation.
Anticipation, is that the best I can do? When is the last time I've been happy? Heck even content. Soon, maybe. Once I've finally get my revenge. Only then can I be content, only when my father's killer's head lies at my feet. Huh..is there really any purpose to life? Or is it all just duty?
Staring out into the dark night, I gaze at the glistening reflections of the moon and stars; and my mind begins to wander, wander to another night when the sky was littered with stars, and the moon was full.
"Where are we going daddy?"
"Sensei son, call me sensei when we're training."
"Sorry, where are we going sensei?"
"To the lake Jaynus. I'm going to tell you about the essence and spirit of the samurai heart."
The moon cascades an immense round eye on the surface of the lake near our farm. Ripples slowly disfiguring its image, the eye of the moon stares back at a boy in his early preteens. Sitting crossed legged in front of my imposing father, I meditate on the lesson my father is teaching, even though he's yet to say a word. Eyes closed and mind blank, I hear my father speak at last.
"Are you ready to accept the lesson? Are your mind and spirit empty, ready to be filled with the drink of wisdom?"
"Yes sensei. I am focused."
"Very well, let us begin."
Coming to a stand, my father unsheathes his katana, and lays it flat on the moist grass.
"The soul of a samurai lies in his blade Jaynus, and in becoming one with your blade, a samurai's true power is released. A samurai must be of complete focus and peace, in order to truly become one with his soul. A samurai must feel the essence of life inside him, must feel the essence of peace within him; only then will he be able to call upon his soul, the soul of his blade. You must reach tranquility in order to achieve our true power, do you understand?"
"Yes sensei."
"Then show me."
Opening my eyes with a slight startle, I can see that my father is solemn. His face is blank, emotionless. He is neither supportive nor unhelpful; he is merely an observer, a teacher. Till this point my training had simply been techniques and forms, I had never tried to release the essence of a blade before. I knew of the power. I had even seen it a few times when my father was helping to heal our animals, but I'd never considered trying it.
"Jaynus, focus!"
Slamming back into reality, I began to concentrate. I began to try and feel my essence, to feel my life force, and try and manifest it into my father's sword. I failed. Over and over again I failed. I couldn't see or feel anything. There was simply a blade lying in the grass, not a soul waiting to be unleashed. For hours I sat in concentration and effort, my father remaining silent and observant, occasionally reminding me to focus and concentrate. But I could not do it; I could not make it work.
For three months we went out to the lake at night. My physical training came to a complete stop, my father would not continue till I reached this milestone. He wouldn't discourage me, but he wouldn't offer any advice or aid. This was my test, my test alone. And I knew it.
Finally one night something was different. Instead of only his Heaven's Cloud, he brought along an item wrapped in cloth. During our meditation it lay by his side, motionless, an enigma of gray cloth.
I couldn't meditate, I kept staring at it, wondering what it was. Finally when it came down to trying to release the spirit of the Heaven's Cloud, my nerves were shattered.
For the first two hours, I failed to release the sword. I failed and degraded further and further, losing any ground and insight I may have gained during the three months of practice. I could see that my father was getting upset. "Jaynus, you must focus. What's the matter with you? You're doing poorly."
"Sensei, I can't do it. I can't concentrate."
"Is it because of this?"
Bringing the wrapped item to my face, I could only nod in agreement.
"Because of this. Jaynus, do you no what this is?"
"No sensei."
"It is your mother's. It is her Kodachi."
Opening the wrapping around the knife, I could see the small elegant knife. Longer than I regular knife, the Kodachi was more a short sword than anything, and it was beautiful.
"If this is more important to you than your training, so be it. Bringing the kodachi up over his head, my father swiftly brought it down, into his gut."
"Father!"
Trying to scramble to my feet, my father's voice bellows, "Sensei! I am your sensei. Now sit down! If you want to aid me, then you better call upon the blade's soul. Release her crimson tears Jaynus, or this farm will be yours."
Shocked and frightened, I shook into a cross-legged stance, and I tried to regain my composure. Watching my father sway from the loss of blood, I tried my best. I tried with all my might, focusing, concentrating, pleading with the blade to help me, but I couldn't do it. I failed, and my father crumpled to the ground, the loss of blood taking away his consciousness. With overwhelming shame and grief, I began to cry, letting everything go. I let go of all my thoughts and feelings, I simply cried uncontrollably, and the blade joined me.
I slowly rising black mist began to emit itself from the blade, forming a cloud of black and gray three feet off the ground. Tiny drops of crimson begin to dance down in a slow rhythmic pattern, eventually growing in strength to a rainfall of blood colored tears. Immediately I felt my energy and stamina return, and my father's wound seemed to close, the color on his face returning. It rained for a minute or so, before the mist just disappeared, any a teenage boy was left sitting beside his peacefully resting father.
I learned to summon the spirit of a blade that night, but it was not enough to save my father a second time.
DING! DING!
Looking behind me, I can see the night shift sentry ring the final bell of the night. The patrons are now to head into the cabin for the night. Turning from the bow of the ship, I head down the stairs towards my cot, and prepare myself for the morning. Because when I awake again, I'll be in Igros.
